


Let Your Heart Be Light

by queercosmos (i_feel_electric)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas Cookies, FFXVSecretSanta2019, Fluff, Friendship is Magic, Gen, everyone is alive and the world isn't about to end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21954853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_feel_electric/pseuds/queercosmos
Summary: Ignis and Prompto make gingerbread cookies. That's it, that's the fic. Also: squishy friendship feels.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Ignis Scientia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Let Your Heart Be Light

**Author's Note:**

> a gift for my secret santa recipient @igniheart, hosted by @ffxvsecretsanta on twitter. hope you like it! :3

“Now add the vanilla,” Ignis said, watching Prompto reach out to grab the bottle in his periphery. “Do be careful not to spill too much.”

“I’m being careful!” Prompto answered with a scowl, then squinted at the measuring spoon as he painstakingly filled it with the fragrant liquid. “You think Noct would let me anywhere near him with a freakin’ gun if my hands weren’t steady as like, rocks or something?”

He could hardly stop himself from snorting, lips twitching in amusement.

“Forgive me. I have no doubt that “hands like rocks” was the exact qualification the Crownsguard were looking for.”

Prompto added the first teaspoon into the bowl and threw Ignis a wry glance. “Watch out, Iggy, or these rocks are gonna end up punching you in the face.”

Ignis chuckled outright at that. Prompto grinned. They each returned to their respective tasks and once he’d finished mixing the last of the dry ingredients, he nodded at the bowl in Prompto’s grasp.

“Lemon and orange zest next.”

“This stuff?” Prompto asked, pointing at the small dish full of colorful shavings. Ignis nodded again.

Dutifully, Prompto complied, and Ignis found his lips twitching again when Prompto brought the dish right up to his nose and inhaled deeply.

“Smells amazing. Didn’t know gingerbread cookies had fruit in ‘em.”

“Not all of them do,” Ignis replied. “However, the hint of orange complements the mix of spices and the lemon brightens overall flavor. It’s a rather nice balance, once the decorative icing has been applied, if I do say so myself. Though--” He stopped and blinked down at a Prompto who was currently smirking and not stirring. Ignis lifted an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” Prompto shrugged, ducking his head as he continued to mix the batter. “You just never struck me as a holiday spirit kinda guy. I was pretty surprised when you texted me, actually. Figured you’d be performing your advisorly duties and all that.”

Ignis bit back a sigh. This had been the reason he chose to stay in Insomnia, already familiar with the holiday traditions of the royal family, due to his position. Noctis hadn’t been very pleased with this arrangement, because he also wished to stay behind and spend time with those closest to him. Rather than suffer the interminable boredom of being cooped up in his family’s Winter manor with only his parents for company. Ignis had assured him that Prompto would be well-looked after. He suppressed another smile at the memory of Noct’s petulant glowering and dusted flour from his hands.

“Yes, well, with the knowledge that both Noct and Gladio would be called away on family business this year, I found it would be...disagreeable to leave you alone.”

Prompto’s stirring faltered, a lopsided grin spreading across his face.

“Disagreeable, huh?”

“Quite.” Ignis cleared his throat. “Are you finished?”

“Oh, yeah,” Prompto replied and set it down next to the bowl of dry ingredients.

Ignis combined them in stages, acutely aware of Prompto’s attentive stare as he did. As though he had never actually observed the process of making cookies before, let alone made them himself. He endeavored not to frown too deeply at the thought and transferred the mixed dough to the counter to be wrapped.

“This will need to sit for at least two hours,” Ignis said, covering it in plastic wrap and putting it aside.

Slumped against the island counter, Prompto looked up at him curiously. “So, what’re we gonna do for two hours?”

He held up a finger and smiled slightly.

“I had another batch waiting in the wings.”

Prompto laughed as Ignis retrieved it from the counter behind them.

“Jeez, Iggy. How many gingerbread cookies does a man freakin’ need?”

“They are not only for our own personal consumption,” Ignis said matter-of-factly. “There are plenty of individuals in the employ of the king who have nowhere to go this holiday season. Most of the cookies are for them. I had hoped you would be interested in distributing them with me tomorrow.”

As anticipated, Prompto’s entire being seemed to brighten, the prospect of doing a good turn for others immediately lifting his spirit.

“Man, totally!”

Ignis allowed himself a full smile this time, teeth and all, and moved to fetch the cookie sheets, so that they might get to work in earnest.

“Most excellent.”

What little remained of the awkwardness between them disappeared with Prompto’s growing excitement. Ignis knew it had always been difficult for him to relax around anyone who was not Noctis, even now. Yet another reason he chose to linger. To perhaps foster a stronger sense of friendship and remind Prompto that he was very much not a burden to any of them. If anything, Prompto’s effervescent energy and optimism prevented them from being overly serious, something Ignis happened to forget more often than not. 

He would never admit it, but he rather enjoyed being in Prompto’s company when it was only the two of them. It encouraged a bit of silliness he would otherwise keep locked away. And drawing faces onto gingerbread men with brightly tinted sugar paste required no small dose of silliness.

“I’m gonna make these the best damn gingerbread cookies Eos has ever seen,” Prompto announced, wielding a bag of red icing with the kind of confidence he usually reserved for his pistols.

Another low chuckle resonated in Ignis’s chest. “I daresay you may just dethrone me as Insomnia’s foremost decorator of baked goods.”

“Wait, for serious?” Prompto asked, eyes wide and frosting bag forgotten, a dribble of red about to plop inelegantly onto a poor gingerbread man’s leg.

Ignis purposefully directed his gaze to the dangerous situation in progress.

Prompto almost shrieked. “Shit!”

“And of course I am not being serious,” Ignis answered with a soft huff.

“I can never tell with you, you’re like a...a--” Prompto frowned, distracted by the fluffy boots he was designing on tiny gingerbread feet. “Damn, what’s that thing called.”

“An enigma.”

“That thing! Yeah. An enigma.”

He smiled. “Perhaps you should use this opportunity to better acquaint yourself with me.”

Prompto beamed back at Ignis and bobbed his head good-naturedly. “You’re right,” he agreed, then paused as he scrunched his face up in thought, undoubtedly wondering what best to ask first.

“We have quite a lot of time on our hands, Prompto,” Ignis said. He shifted on the kitchen stool, leaning forward to draw tiny, white glasses on his own gingerbread man. “You are free to inquire about mundane details as much as the philosophical.”

“If you hadn’t been born into House Scientia, what do you think you would be doing with your life?” Prompto blurted abruptly.

Ignis could just make out the embarrassed blush on his cheeks as he refused to look up from the counter. It would seem they weren’t going to start by dancing around pleasantries. Which suited Ignis just fine, but he barely had a moment to collect his thoughts when the oven timer’s shrill ringing filled the kitchen, making them both startle somewhat comically.

He laughed, drawing Prompto’s attention while he moved to pull the next batch of cookies out to cool.

“Truth be told, being employed elsewhere has never occurred to me,” Ignis admitted quietly. “My position as Noct’s advisor has and always will be the highest honor I can think of. Imagining another life beyond this one?” he trailed off, staring out the kitchen window at the gray, Insomnian streets below, then shook his head. “A tall order, I’m afraid.”

“Must be nice, knowing you’re exactly where you’re meant to be,” Prompto said, just as quiet.

Ignis could sense the all too familiar mantle of self-deprecation draping itself over Prompto’s shoulders again. A strange combination of melancholy and affection bloomed, warm, in his center. That would not do at all.

“You are also exactly where you’re meant to be.” Ignis stopped placing cookies on the cooling rack to face Prompto properly. “Perhaps all of us have not made that abundantly clear as of yet, for which I apologize.”

Prompto’s mouth fell open and the blush on his cheeks deepened. “...I-Iggy, I--”

But he barrelled on, lest his filter for the overly saccharine get the best of him.

“You may still feel like an outsider, unworthy of our _esteemed_ ranks,” Ignis drawled, smirking to ensure Prompto knew he was being facetious. “However, I can speak with authority on behalf of Noctis, Gladio, and myself that you have already carved out a worthy position in our lives. Quite a lasting one, I should think.”

Again, Prompto struggled to respond, his indigo eyes shining wetly. Ignis swallowed down the tightness in his throat and flashed him an easy grin.

“So,” he continued, intending to finish with the cookies, except a clatter of wood reverberated throughout the kitchen and suddenly there were arms coiled tightly around his waist.

“Thank you,” Prompto said, voice muffled against Ignis’s apron.

Ignis found he could not move at first, too stunned by the unexpected embrace. Admittedly, he was not used to receiving hugs. Initiating them even less so. But it was not unpleasant, to receive one from Prompto.

Gingerly, Ignis set the spatula down and wrapped his own arms around Prompto’s shoulders, inspiring the ones around his waist to squeeze tighter still. He chuckled despite his ribcage feeling ten sizes too small for his body.

“You are most welcome.”

“Sorry,” Prompto sniffled, pulling away a moment later.

“Nonsense,” Ignis tutted. His cheeks had warmed as well. “Shall we, uh, proceed?”

Prompto nodded his assent and bashfully wiped at his face, then went to pick the upended stool from the floor.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Ignis almost dropped one of the gingerbread cookies at the unexpected segue. “Pardon?”

“Your favorite color. I haven’t been able to figure it out yet.”

“Robin’s egg blue,” he answered, smiling as he readied the baking sheet for another round.

“That makes sense.”

“Does it now?”

“It sure does, buddy,” Prompto said, buoyant tone making Ignis’s smile widen. “Can you guess mine?”

That was a simple task. Anyone who had spent more than a handful of minutes in Prompto’s company would have been able to guess.

“Yellow, like the feathers of your beloved Chocobos,” Ignis replied.

“Gold star, Iggy.” Prompto gasped then. “Hey! Do you have any Chocobo cookie cutters?”

The childlike glee that took hold of Prompto at the idea was rather infectious and Ignis was all too happy to deliver the good news that he did have one in his possession. He rummaged through the collection of metal shapes on the counter, plucking it from the pile and presenting it with a flourish.

“Ask and ye shall receive.”

“Aw, man. This is the best day ever!” Prompto gushed, jumping off his stool to hover at Ignis’s side, waiting with barely contained excitement for the dough to be rolled out. “Chocobo town here we come!”

Ignis laughed and nudged his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, gladly going to work with the flour-dusted roller. He knew whatever emotional crisis Prompto had been fighting had well and truly fled when, in the next moment, a camera materialized out of thin air.

“We gotta send pics to Noct and Gladio so they know how much fun they’re missing out on.”

“Ah, yes. I wouldn’t pass up this chance to gloat for all the world,” Ignis chuckled again. Honestly, he could not recall the last time he had laughed this much.

With practiced ease, Prompto tucked in close to Ignis, camera outstretched in front of them. He let Prompto take a handful of photos while he rolled out the dough, smiling all the while. But before something else caught Prompto’s eye, he slung an arm around narrow shoulders and grinned broadly into the lens.

“Send that one,” Ignis suggested, studying the preview of the photo on the camera’s digital screen. The happy surprise etched onto Prompto’s glowing face would please both their friends the most. Even if it meant suffering months of harassment for his enormously cheesy expression.

“I Iook ridiculous,” Prompto giggled.

“We both do.”

“But you look like-- sophisticated ridiculous.”

“Oh, hush.” Ignis rolled his eyes. What in Eos did that even mean? “Just cut out your Chocobos already.”

Prompto emitted a strangled noise of joy and immediately abandoned the camera. “Ugh, I’m so freakin’ excited!”

Standing at the sink, Ignis washed his hands, listening to the nameless tune of Prompto’s humming over the rush of water. He stared out the window at the gray, Insomnian streets and thought they looked rather cold this year. Colder than usual.

How fortunate for him, then, that it was so much like Summer in the confines of his own kitchen.

Drying his hands, Ignis felt yet another smile tugging at his lips when he turned to find Prompto dancing in place while he worked.

Yes, he thought. How fortunate, indeed.


End file.
